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blooming-violets · 8 months ago

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I was looking your post about "Location based smut prompts", I really liked the possibilities of "Nature > 1 - sensual sex in a secluded meadow during a picnic". So I decided to be sassy and ask you to develop it, for our joy 🫦

Stormy Skies || TASM Smut

[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!Reader]

WC: 1k

General Warning: Don't have sex in a meadow during a storm. You will get struck by lightning and die.

The distant rolling of thunder rumbled through her chest and reverberated around her bones.

There was a warm, summer breeze in the air that carried on its back the earthy smell of rain.

Peter insisted that the skies wouldn’t open up but she was beginning to doubt his confident claims.

Long, green grass swayed and danced around the oasis of their blanket raft like tumbling ocean waves.

The oncoming storm echoed their own building desires. Firm hands rolled up her arms, cresting over the dip of her shoulders, and ticking behind her neck to draw her closer. Mocha colored eyes with caramel swirls gazed deep into her own, letting her know exactly what he was thinking without having to speak a word.

She wasn’t sure.

Her eyes glanced up to the stormy skies above them.

“Shh,” he soothed her worries. “We’re safe.”

“But if lightning- oh.”

His hands slipped up her dress as he leaned over, pressing her into the soft blanket, and quelling her thoughts before they could finish.

With Peter nestling his hips between her thighs, worry blew away in a gust of summer wind.

She could taste fresh watermelon on his lips as her tongue traced along them. She sought out the flavors of their lunch. Slices of juicy watermelon. Homemade lemonade. The slight saltiness of potato chips.

His large hand engulfed her breast over her dress. Cupping it in his palm. Rubbing his thumb over her nipple until he could feel it tighten and push out against the fabric.

He slid her strap down her shoulder so he could pull down the dress enough to capture the waiting bud in his sweet lips.

Her eyes sought upwards to gaze into the graying heavens while he nursed at her breast.

A cool, fat drop of rain fell down.

Landing on her forehead.

Rolling down the slope of her nose.

Soaking into the warm skin of her cheek.

Tension rippled down her spine and bloomed a hunger of desire.

She wanted to be one with nature.

Soaked in its glory.

Engaging in the most natural, timeless act two beings could do.

Nothing else mattered but making love to Peter while the storm grew around them.

Those fingers brushing against the thin cotton fabric, stroking along her wettening slit, teasing over her eager clitoris.

Little strokes. Awakening her body. Deepening her breaths until she was nearly gasping.

His hot mouth, still tending to her breast with nibbling kisses.

Her hands tangled in the mess of his chestnut hair. Tugging at him. Pulling him back up to her face so she could shower him with kisses of her own.

Tongues colliding.

Watermelon and salt.

Hints of sweet lemon.

He only broke the passion of her kiss to tug down her underwear. Unzipping his jeans and pushing them down to his knees.

She wanted to reach out and touch him. Take him into her mouth. Feel him in her hand.

But Peter was too hot.

Too needy.

Her thighs fell to the side, accommodating the weight of his body between them.

Light, cool raindrops tickled her face.

The sky was starting to leak.

Letting go.

Joining them in their building desires.

Peter pressed his forehead against hers. Blocking her from the drizzle. Gazing with a burning love into her eyes. Watching her intently as he led his cock into its favorite home.

She nearly cried out when he impaled her. Slow and true.

Her eyes widened, back arching, mouth opening into a silent gasp.

His arms wrapped around her head in a protective embrace.

Forehead nuzzled to hers.

Lips seeking her skin.

Reassuring kisses.

Soft whispers of love.

Her hips rocked against him. It was impossible to stay still with him inside of her.

Waves of pleasure rolling up her back and warming her stomach, mimicking the feeling of rumbling thunder over head.

The torrent of sensations electrifying her skin.

Creating her own lightning from her body.

Dark skies opened up.

Rain flooded from the heavens.

Drenching through Peter’s hair. Plastering it to his face. Soaking through his clothes. Seeping into the blanket under her.

He acted as her personal umbrella. Keeping her as dry as he could with his body.

Thrusting of hips.

Cries deafened by claps of thunder.

Colliding together in an explosion of undying pleasure.

One with mother earth. One of the grass and clouds and rain.

Making love in the meadow.

Her body swayed in rhythm to every moaning breath, every gasping inhale, every rumbling of thunder in the distance.

Lost in a storm of passion. Her thoughts coming and going like flashes of lightning. All she could feel was Peter and the rain.

Pure desire coursing through her veins.

Her Peter. Her love. Treating her to the most beautiful human experience she could imagine.

Better than a dream.

Her world began to move. Shifting. Trusting him with her soul. Her body. Everything she had to give belonged to him. To take as he pleased.

He would treat her right.

He would love her like a man was meant to.

Her shoulders flexed as the tension built.

An unstoppable march like the rain cascading around them.

Pushing her to an animalistic, wild freedom.

Growing.

Climbing.

Reaching.

A tempest of raging rain and thunder twisting her insides where they connected.

She almost wanted to fight it. Afraid to let the moment fall from her grasp.

Wanting to live in this building moment of bliss for the rest of time.

But there was no stopping a lightning strike.

“Peter!”

His name was magic on her lips. Her saving grace. The one and only name she called out when she was at her lowest or highest.

The only name there ever was, ever needed to be.

The most perfect name in all of human history.

Peter.

Her body shook. Her voice breaking into a staggered cry.

Explosion moved her stomach as it scrunched inward and stretched back out with her aching spine.

Uncontained energy.

Melding with the claps of thunder and breaking free as a white light of cracking electricity lit up the blackened sky.

She was the lightning. She was the thunder. She was the impending storm.

She was the soothing rain cooling her back down, keeping her mind from getting lost, tethering her tightly to her lover.

Peter was kissing her cheek. Gliding down her jaw. Nipping at her ear.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against her heated skin.

He loved her orgasms. Loved making her feel everything. Loved watching her unravel.

Loved her.

His hips were still moving though his pace had slowed to let her recover from her shaking orgasm. He was waiting for her to finish before he even dared to attempt to receive his own pleasure.

Always her first.

Her sweet, wonderful Peter.

She shoved his shoulder, rolling him onto his back so she could take control.

She straddled his hips, rising above him like a goddess.

Her hair tossed around her face as the wind picked up. The rain soaked through her dress, leaving it nearly see through, letting Peter see the swell of her round stomach and outline of her breasts. Dark, shadowed nipples poked out against the wet fabric, leaving him hungry to suck upon them.

But she denied him that gift like he denied her the taste of his cock.

It was his turn to become one with the storm.

She came down to grind him into her.

Rolling her hips along with the thunder.

Sinking as deep as he could go, connecting them once more.

Peter’s head fell back, his eyes rolling to a close, and his lips parting into a pant.

His hands reached up to grab hold of her hips, needing to feel her in his grasp.

The scent of wet dirt filled her nostrils and she breathed it deeply into her very soul.

She knew him better than anyone. She knew he was close.

She worked him with her hips, doing her best to squeeze onto him with her clenching walls.

Riding above him in the pouring rain while a storm raged on made her feel powerful.

Like she could do anything.

Be anyone.

This was her world and she was the master of it.

Peter’s tiny cries and whimpers fueled her own power.

“That’s it, baby,” she cooed down at him. “Cum for me. Fill me.”

He whined and his hips began to buck with frantic, jerking thrusts.

She couldn’t tell if those were tears or rain drops running down his cheek so she leaned down to kiss them away, offering him all her love.

His arms wrapped around her back to hold her closer, stilling her in place with an iron clad grasp, and taking over the brunt of the thrust work to get himself exactly where he needed to be.

His orgasm was nearly as powerful as her own.

Pulsing into her, filling her, flooding her with warmth.

“Oh, yes, Peter,” she cried.

She worked her hips the best she could against him with his arm holding her in place at his chest.

Desperate to keep his orgasm going for as long as she could.

Lightning lit up the sky once more.

Followed by a crack of ear splitting thunder directly overhead.

As if on instinct, Peter tucked her into his grasp, and flipped her under him, shielding her from any potential threats.

Worried eyes blinked down at her, only to soften once he caught sight of her gazing back up at him with a humored love.

They both broke into a chorus of laughter.

His fingers traced along her temple, brushing back wet hair, and leaving soft kisses in its place.

“I think we should get back to the car before we die,” he whispered, stealing one last kiss from her lips.

Remember!

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st0rmyskies · 1 year ago

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you absolutely dont have to answer this, but how would the hsh boys deal with a manhunt for an escaped killer trapping them inside? like, who would be wearing noise cancelling headphones 24/7 for the police sirens, and who would get fed up and go to hunt the guy down themselves? hope things get a little easier for you soon!

Actually I need this ask like you have no idea.

Twilight - The most lowkey nervous of the house. He's incredibly grateful to be living in Time's fortress, but he's also pretty freaked out living so close to or within the search area. He tends to double- and triple-check locks whenever he passes by doors and he'll snap at the others to stop opening windows, although he'll try to laugh it off and not let on how scared he is. Debates for a hot 30 minutes whether he should go visit home indefinitely. He loses the most sleep in the house listening to the helicopters at night.

Wild - He comes up with the most imaginative methods for how the killer might get into the house and terrorize the group, and he loves to share them out loud while working in the kitchen or when passing by the others lounging in the living room. It's pretty common to hear a bunch of them yelling "WILD!!" to get him to shut up now and then. But he's also weirdly not scared. Definitely has a "there's no way that would happen to me" attitude.

Champion - Completely nonplussed. He continues to keep his routine of working out, hanging in his room, going out when he needs to - although he does carry a concealed weapon on him when he leaves. Definitely has a hair-raising "fuck around and find out" aura to him.

Warriors - Gets weirdly serious about the situation at first. He's the first to check doors and windows to make sure they're secure. He keeps the television on the news channel - turned low, of course - for round-the-clock updates. He's constantly checking social media for updates and posting selfies of his arduous ordeal of being stuck inside. By day 5 or 6, though, he's starting to get bored. He's needling his roommates and starting petty fights for no reason, yelling at them when they try to change the channel, and spending way too much time in the bathroom trying new things with his hair.

Sky - Takes things seriously for the first 2-3 days. He keeps his eye on the news with Wars, he talks Twilight down when he can tell that he's a bit panicky, he's the first to gently change the subject when Wild starts to get a new fantasy in his head. By the 4th day, Sky is sick of being inside so much. ALWAYS down to accompany one of the others outside for an errand or whatever, so long as it isn't before 9am.

Legend - Is reasonably unaffected. He’s kind of a shut-in, really. Working with Ravio means that he doesn’t need to leave the house for much. He does like his occasional trip to the cafe but the coffee maker works just as well. When the others begin to get stir-crazy is when he starts to get bitchy and hides in his room most of the time.

Hyrule - Still living his life. Escaped killer or not, Hyrule has a job that he still needs to get to. He's so dead inside at 5:30am each day that he could open the front door to the killer standing on their porch and just say "excuse me" and pass right on by with his work bag on his shoulder. Public transport isn't running, so Time is up with him each morning to take him to and from the hospital personally, which he supposes is a perk. At least Time doesn't expect too much in the way of conversation so early in the morning.

Four - He's quieter than usual and is spending a lot more time in his bedroom with the door locked and the curtains drawn. He'll come down for meals, but he excuses himself anytime Wild starts up with another fantasy about how the killer is going to come in and get them all in their sleep. He categorically AVOIDS the living room with the constant news feed about the situation. Alone in his room, though, he checks on the situation online at least twice a day, and he's watched the surveillance tape loops of the guy more than any of the others.

Shadow - Shortly after the whole circus starts, he's texting Four, offering to have him come stay at Shadow's place, which is much farther from the action. But Shadow has a basement apartment, which would make Four a bit paranoid. So 36 hours in, Shadow shows up outside of Four's window unannounced, nearly giving him a heart attack, and quietly moves in with him until the whole ordeal is closed. Somebody's gotta keep Four from falling apart all alone.

Wind - He literally could not care less, all up until his Amazon orders start coming up as "unable to be delivered due to emergency or weather situation." THEN he's stomping around the house, ranting and raving about the uselessness of the police force and that "It's just one guy!!" and "How hard can this be!!?" Most likely to get into it with Warriors and sent Legend in a disgruntled huff stomping off up the stairs.

Dark - Leaves some food and bottled water out on the fire escape each night like you'd put out milk and cookies for Santa.

Time - For the first few days, he’s the sensible dad. The townhouse is built to protect; he has enough locks and munitions to hold off an army. He keeps the blinds shut and the lights on and informs the boys that it’s smarter to travel in groups, only leave if you really need to, etc. By day 4 when the others are beginning to grumble and get restless, he reminds them to leave it to the proper authorities, but even he is getting a bit stir-crazy, barking at the boys when they’re peeking out the blinds or squabbling too loudly downstairs. On the evening of day 10, Time leaves the house with a duffel bag and only informs Twilight that he has some work to do and to keep the doors locked. He returns 18 hours later, showers, and passes out for the entire night and most of the next morning. He’s immediately more relaxed in the house and doesn’t harp on the others about keeping doors locked and so on. Later that day, the news reports that they’ve found what’s left of the escapee.

#stormy asks #hsh #townhouse au #asks about the boys #i need a fucking tag of these sorts of asks i think #god i am so tired and bitchy its amazing

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